He came down the steps to join her. He did not comment on her cane.
She took his arm. ‘I still have your purse, you know.’
‘My … my purse?’
‘It’s in my handbag. I suppose you’d like it back?’
They left her carriage in the driveway and her handbag on the steps and strolled away across the drive. Entering the shade of the tree-lined path together, they began a walk. It would take them back through memories, forward through dreams – the resumption of a conversation that had only ever paused and was, from that moment, destined to never end.
Grace Hospital
Detroit, 29 October 1926
‘HARRY, WAKE UP.’
Harry opened his eyes, and for a very long moment he looked at them without knowing who they were.
‘Dash?’ he asked.
‘No, Harry, it’s not Dash.’
‘Bess, what are you doing? The doctors say you’re not well enough to be here.’
The girl smiled, and crouched down by his bed and took his hand. ‘It’s not Bess, Harry. It’s me, Tina. Your other Catholic girl.’
‘Mein Gott,’ he whispered, reaching to touch her dark hair. ‘Mein Gott, look at you.’
She pressed his fingers to her lips, her eyes filled with sympathy, and he was suddenly horribly aware of his grey hair, his terribly wasted condition. ‘How I must look,’ he whispered, raising a shaking hand to his face.
‘You look just fine, Harry.’
But Harry knew the truth: even before this illness, he had looked much older than his years. He lifted his eyes to the young man standing behind Tina, and for one startling moment he was sixteen again, brushing snow from a cold dead face, and mourning a friend he’d never really got to know. Then Joe smiled. ‘Hello, Harry,’ he said.
‘Hello, Joe. You’re looking well.’
‘I wish I could say the same for you.’
‘Aw, I’m a bit of a mess … They’re opening me up again in a few minutes. I think they’re afraid they left something in there.’
He chuckled, and Joe did, too.
Tina stroked his hair. Her hand was very sweet and cool, and Harry closed his eyes. ‘I think I’m all out of fight,’ he whispered.
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Okay. I won’t …’ He squinted up at them. ‘Say, how’d yah manage to get past my rottweiler of a sister and those brothers of mine? Even my manager has had a time of it today.’
Tina smiled. ‘Oh, Joe and I have become very persuasive over the last thirty-odd years. We just asked nice.’
Harry eyed her, not quite happy. ‘Please don’t tell me your eyes glow in the dark.’
‘Okay,’ said Joe. ‘We won’t tell you.’
He smiled at Harry’s troubled frown, and crouched down beside Tina.
‘Listen, Harry,’ he said. ‘This is no good. You’re not going to make it.’
‘Oh, nice,’ whispered Harry. ‘If you came all the way across the world to give me a pep talk, I gotta tell yah, Joe, you should have stayed home.’
‘We came all the way to see you and Bess,’ said Tina. ‘It’s not our fault you’re too lazy to get out of bed.’
‘You just wanted to show off your amazing travelling man, here.’ He took Joe’s hand and squeezed it tight to show how happy he was for him. ‘It’s great to see you out and about, pal. I’m so glad for you.’
‘Come home with us, Harry.’
Harry allowed his eyes to slip momentarily shut again. ‘Nah,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t think so … Thanks, though.’
There was a long stillness in the room, with just the sound of nurses’ shoes squeaking in the hall and the rattle of equipment from the next ward. An orderly came to the door, looked at the three of them in confusion and walked away. It would not be long until it was time to go.
Harry looked at Joe’s hand gripping tightly onto his. It was so alive-looking, strong as only a very young, very hardworking man’s hand could be. Harry’s own hands were covered in many small scars. Even relaxed with the drugs they’d given him, his body was singing with pain. His stomach, his hands, his leg. Harry had done his last three shows with a fractured bone in his leg. It was not unusual for him to do this. Bess said that sometimes, after a show, she found it hard to look at him his pain was so obvious.
In truth, it almost felt good to be finally lying down.
Joe leaned forward and, apparently reluctant to break the peace, very quietly said, ‘Harry?’
Harry met his eyes.
‘Was it worth it?’ asked Joe. ‘Have you had fun?’
Harry didn’t even hesitate. ‘Oh, yes,’ he whispered. ‘All of it, Joe. All of it was, ganz gewiss, worth it.’ As he said it, Harry realised that he meant every word.
Joe nodded. Harry looked from his face to Tina’s and back again. ‘And you?’ he whispered. ‘Was it worth it for you?’
Tina’s hand found Joe’s, and she smiled a calm, grave smile. ‘Every minute,’ she said.
‘Come with us, Harry,’ urged Joe again. ‘It may not be too late.’
Harry shook his head.
‘But why?’ asked Tina. ‘We can make you better. Bess can come, too.’
The orderly arrived with some nurses, ready to prep Harry for the table. They began fussing around, and Tina and Joe were pushed back as the staff prepared to wheel the bed to the operating theatre.
Joe, his back pressed to the wall, asked again, ‘Why, Harry?’ and Harry smiled.
‘I kinda want to see what happens next, Joe. It’s too interesting an adventure to pass up.’ And he realised that he meant every word of that, too. He wasn’t afraid. Let it come, let it not come – he was ready either way.
As the orderlies were pushing him for the door, their stiff white coats hiding the room from view, Joe called, ‘Harry, come back and let us know, all right? Let us know what happens next!’
Harry waved, his scarred hand almost too weak now to lift from the snow-white linen, then he was gone around the corner. And soon he would be gone for good: passed onto something bigger, maybe, something more exciting; or perhaps to nothing at all. No one but Harry would ever really know for sure, because once Harry was gone he never came back.
THE END
Acknowledgements
HEARTFELT THANKS TO all who encouraged and supported me along the way with this story. In particular I would like to thank Professor Richard E. Hess, Chair in Drama at the University of Cincinnati College – Conservatory of Music, for his patience and time in ensuring my theatre references were accurate; Ana Grilo for her help ensuring that Raquel’s use of Portuguese was as accurate as possible; Sam and Jo Samberg for their help with Harry’s Yiddish and Hebrew, and for ensuring his prayers and perception of the afterlife were plausible; to Astrid Finke for ensuring that the German dialect used in the book was accurate for the time and for Harry’s origins. Thank you all for putting up with so many checks and cross-checks and multiple emails over the many years it took to write this baby and then put it to bed. Any mistakes are mine, all mine.
Special thanks again to Erica Wagner and Elise Jones of Allen & Unwin Australia, who believed in me every step of the way, and whose dedication, patience and skill were invaluable in getting this behemoth of a story to the stage it is now. Jumpers over heads, ladies, jumpers over heads.
Acclaim for Celine Kiernan
Into the Grey
‘A complex story of history, haunting and long-ago
losses … If you’re in the mood for a scare Kiernan’s
beautiful novel comes highly recommended’
The Philadelphia Inquirer
‘Kiernan’s beautiful and haunting novel is full of
mystery and suspense. The multidimensional characters
drive the story line. A captivating read that combines Irish
history with the supernatural’
US School Library Journal Review
‘This haunting supernatural thriller is … hard to put
&nbs
p; down … original, refreshing, challenging and enjoyable’
School Librarian Magazine (UK)
THE MOOREHAWKE TRILOGY
The Poison Throne
‘A fascinating historical fantasy characterised by vivid, colourful writing’
The Irish Times
‘All the ingredients of an international bestseller’
Sarah Webb, Irish Independent
‘It races the reader along at breathtaking speed and doesn’t release its grip until the very last page’
International Youth Library
The Crowded Shadows
‘Compelling and complex, romantic and suspenseful, populated by memorable characters’
US Publishers Weekly
‘Excellent … a cracking theatrical historical fantasy’
Irish Independent
The Rebel Prince
Passion and violence, plus plenty of skullduggery and intrigue combine to make this a compelling read’
Bookfest
About the Author
BORN AND RAISED in Dublin, Ireland, Celine Kiernan has spent the majority of her working life in the film business. She was trained at the Sullivan Bluth Studios, and her career as a classical feature character animator spanned over seventeen years. She spent most of her time working between Germany, Ireland and the USA.
Her popular Moorehawke Trilogy has been internationally acclaimed, and her novel Into the Grey was awarded both the Children’s Books Ireland Book of the Year Award and Children’s Choice Award in a single year. For more information about Celine, see her blog: celinekiernan.wordpress.com.
Also by Celine Kiernan
Into the Grey
The Moorehawke Trilogy
Book 1 The Poison Throne
Book 2 The Crowded Shadows
Book 3 The Rebel Prince
Copyright
This eBook edition first published 2015 by The O’Brien Press Ltd.,
12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, Ireland.
Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.obrien.ie
First published 2015.
First published 2015 in Australia by Allen & Unwin.
eBook ISBN 978-1-84717-759-9
Copyright for text © Celine Kiernan 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or in any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Cover and text design by Sandra Nobes. Cover images: girl © Malgorzata Maj / Trevillion Images; moth and cobwebs © Grace Kiernan; cracked ice © Strannik.fox / Shutterstock. Miss Ursula’s performance on page 54 paraphrased from Shakespeare’s Macbeth.
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